


linger

by mercuryretrograte (brujadelmar)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cheating, Comfort/Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol, Minor Kim Jongdae | Chen/Oh Sehun, Minor Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Lu Han, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-01-15 06:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brujadelmar/pseuds/mercuryretrograte
Summary: You know I'm such a fool for you.





	1. linger

.

For a long, quiet moment, Jongdae thought he was dreaming, but then he heard the piano again. He rolled over on the bed and caressed the empty space right beside him.

“I see,” he sighed, stretching slowly. The melody was beautiful, but he knew that it wasn’t his best performance. He could hear how Baekhyun was playing too heavily, the notes being dragged instead of being elegantly guided.

Jongdae got out of the bed and grabbed his robe, still barefoot. The door was open and the weak light from the main room was the only clarity inside of their dark bedroom. He opened the door completely, stepping out of the room, dressing, and getting chills because of the cold marble under his feet.

Jongdae wanted to laugh; Baekhyun was downstairs, playing the piano at 3 a.m. That wasn’t a good sign, oh no. Jongdae decided to go to the kitchen first; it was windy and cold, which meant that Baekhyun opened the windows and, Jongdae hoped so, drew the curtains aside – because once in a while, he liked to see them flying high. The kitchen was a mess and that was even a worse sign since it meant he was truly in the middle of an anxiety crisis. He could picture Baekhyun making a sandwich with every little thing that he found in the fridge and then eating it in two minutes, barely chewing. Jongdae cleaned the sink, picked the crumbs, swept the floor, humming the song. It was Radiohead’s creep, that they both listened in a Tango version a few days ago. It was a miracle that Baekhyun remembered it enough to pick it; he was so tired that night they went out that he couldn’t even lift his head.

Jongdae boiled water and chose chamomile and artemisia to put in the mug. He put the hot tea on a regular plate and covered the mug with a random lid (way bigger than the poor pink mug). Baekhyun switched to a classic song and Jongdae wanted to laugh – late at night, only the two of them in that house and classical music always gave him a feeling of being in a horror movie.

Yet he faced the stairs to find Baekhyun playing, also using his robes. They bought them together, but they didn’t match and yet they gave Jongdae that good sensation of being a married couple thing.

He put the plate on the piano as a statement. Baekhyun stopped playing and looked at him.

Jongdae raised one eyebrow.

“Just this one, please,” Baekhyun said and started playing again, this time softer, pausing. Jongdae walked to the balcony and stood there, reclining on the grid. His eyes were on the man playing, his messy bleached hair, his bare feet moving, and his shoulders, barely covered by the loose robe.

Jongdae forgot to make himself a tea too. He yawned.

Baekhyun finished the song with a long sight and took the mug as he stood up. He drank fast, way too fast, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I think I drank the flowers too,” he said, smiling. “I hope I don’t get sick.”

“You should have worried about that before coming down to play instead of sleeping,” Jongdae smiled, closing his eyes to feel the wind on his face. Baekhyun dropped the mug on the carpet and entered the tiny balcony. It was an old house and despite not understanding architecture, Jongdae knew it was some European classical style, something he could picture while reading Shakespeare. Jongdae grew up in a simple, humble family. Of course, he had money enough to pay and he was dating someone who had even more money, but it was like being locked inside of a dream.

Baekhyun held his waist and brought him closer.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Not really,” Jongdae said. “But you should have…”

“No,” Baekhyun kissed him slightly on the lips, shiny sleepy eyes. “I would never. You look so cute while sleeping.”

“Flirting with me won’t save you from this conversation,” Jongdae said simply, almost giggling. “You’re charming, I give you that, at least.”

Baekhyun gulped, his smiling fading. Jongdae kissed his exposed shoulder and enjoyed the happy sigh he got as a response.

“Was it the blog guy?” He asked gently, speaking straight on Baekhyun’s ear. “Again?”

Based on the twist on Baekhyun’s face, it was a ‘yes’. Jongdae kissed his neck, holding him back. Baekhyun’s drama was released and they were receiving good critics, but the reviews always had something about Baekhyun’s first acting performance… most weren’t good. Jongdae didn’t expect him to be praised, to be honest. He was a famous singer and people tended to mean when they switched careers or tried new things. But he also didn’t expect Baekhyun to react so strongly to critics’ words.

Baekhyun leaned his head and kissed Jongdae’s mouth again; this time, it was open-mouthed and wet.

“We’re not going to have sex,” Jongdae said as he broke the kiss. “Not now.”

Baekhyun whined, pouting almost involuntarily.

“You’re just chasing coping mechanisms,” Jongdae laughed. “Anxious eating, anxious playing, anxious fucking. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I wish it was that easy,” Baekhyun whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “I can’t sleep. I’m restless. I need to do something.”

“Let’s walk,” he suggested. “So you can talk about it.”

“I don’t want to,” Baekhyun licked his lips, looking away. “I will cry. It’ll be ugly.”

“Like I haven’t seen you cry a thousand times.”

He smiled at that; his sleepy eyes were a little more alert for a second. He was about to cry.

“You don’t think I feel dumb for caring about it?” Baekhyun said, tearing up. “I know I did my best and I know I shouldn’t care about it because I did it for fun. Of course, I wasn’t expecting an Oscar nomination. I just wanted to… I try so hard. Reading that…”

“You have a thousand million praises and you focus on a few worthless opinions,” Jongdae held his boyfriend’s face with both hands. “Baekhyun, you’re a genius. We have a whole wall of awards. You broke records. You’re talented and you make so many people happy and impressed… you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. Never.”

“I know,” Baekhyun sniffed and put his hands on Jongdae’s bare skin. “I know, but it still hurts. I don’t know why. I just want to cry and… get better.”

Jongdae kissed him. They held hands as they did every time they were comforting each other. It was a long, long way until living together and Jongdae lost the count of how many times Baekhyun searched for his hand and grabbed it, held him, needing this small comfort, the reassurance. At this point in their relationship, their bodies talked unconsciously, way before their minds could process anything.

Baekhyun grabbed the key and Jongdae picked the slippers. The air outside was good to dry the tears and they felt home when they were together. Us against the world, maybe us being sheltered from the world.

“I’m okay now,” Baekhyun said, his fingers playing with the trees’ leaves.

It was temporary, of course. He would read something bad later and get stressed. It wasn’t a new situation.

“They rejected my songs,” he told Jongdae, calm and resigned. “Again.”

“That doesn’t have to do with you,” Jongdae stretched, moving his neck. “I’ve lost count of how many of mine they didn’t even look at.”

“I know,” Baekhyun shrugged. “But knowing that doesn’t make it less frustrating.”

“Do you have anything else bothering you?” Jongdae asked. “Any other unfortunate event that happened lately?”

“My boyfriend rejected my sexual advances,” Baekhyun said.

“That, unfortunately, can’t be helped,” Jongdae nodded.

Baekhyun slept as soon as he fell on the bed. Walking always helped him to relax, no matter the reason, maybe it gave him a sense of moving on. Jongdae was the one who couldn’t sleep anymore. Instead of lying in bed, he decided to watch something on tv. He found Baekhyun’s mess of papers on his way and murmured complaints to no one. He picked a few and tried to organize them.

“Oh,” Jongdae was surprised.

His writings.

Jongdae always brought nice food home on Thursdays nights, when Baekhyun was taking Tap-Dance classes for his musical, since his teacher was a friend of them and taught Jongdae the same classes a few years ago. Jongdae didn’t like tap dancing and the musical was fun, but he decided to keep singing while sitting down, which everyone – including him - enjoyed more. Baekhyun wanted to try everything just for fun.

Jongdae got home early, so he even set the table for the three of them with wine cups and the right glasses but he forgot to check their schedule.

“I’m really sorry but I have physio,” Baekhyun said, putting his sneakers on. “The driver will be here in five minutes.”

Jongdae sighed.

“Can you stay, then?” He asked Kyungsoo.

“Yes, but not for too long,” Kyungsoo said, bowing. He wasn’t as sweaty as Baekhyun, of course, but Jongdae knew that Kyungsoo didn’t like to overstay.

“I guess my romantic dinner will be with Kyungsoo tonight,” Jongdae said louder; the house was still full of empty spaces and Baekhyun was reaching to the door.

“I’m not worried,” Baekhyun said, waving. “His tall boyfriend will break your legs!”

Jongdae almost let the bottle of wine slip from his hands.

“Are you dating someone?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo laughed, scrunching his nose, truly amused. “It’s possible, apparently.”

Jongdae was too curious to be stopped, so he couldn’t help but bother Kyungsoo with a thousand questions.

“We met in Japan,” Kyungsoo said. “We had dinner together and I went to his apartment. We’ve been together for three months.”

“Oh,” Jongdae said. “But is it serious?”

“Does it matter?” Kyungsoo asked just before taking a bite of his crepe. “I like him.”

Jongdae was taken aback with the answer. He didn’t want to ask for an explanation – he felt like an old man trying to understand young people’s perspectives.

“If you want to ask something, go on,” Kyungsoo sensed his confusion. “If you don’t, I won’t talk voluntarily.”

Jongdae sighed. He was holding a lot of words to himself lately, he certainly would use that for writing.

“It’s… no, let me ask you a few things first,” Jongdae said, pushing his plate away and leaning over the table. “What do you two do?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you do together… as a couple?” Jongdae asked, his finger playing with the tissue. “Romance, sparkles, falling in love…”

Kyungsoo laughed with eyes closed, throwing his head back. Jongdae laughed too, he wasn’t offended.

“We go out to eat and have fun,” Kyungsoo explained when he was able to talk again. “He buys things for me and carries my bags for me. We have sex and I stay the night.”

Jongdae poured wine for both of them.

“You’re not the right person for me to ask that,” Jongdae sighed. “I wanted something more poetic.”

Kyungsoo took his phone from the pocket and selected a picture to show Jongdae.

“Wow,” Jongdae stared at the half-naked man. “Is that him? It looks like it was photoshopped.”

“He sends me nudes,” Kyungsoo said dryly. “Is that poetic enough for you?”

“You’re mean,” Jongdae laughed. “What’s the point of this if you get to see him naked in flesh?”

“It’s flirting. Makes sex more interesting, not just the act,” Kyungsoo kept his phone on his pocket again. “I told you I like him. I wouldn’t waste my time if I didn't have feelings for him.”

Jongdae nodded and took a sip of wine.

“I know,” he whispered. “I just kept thinking about things lately.”

“What kind of things?” Kyungsoo asked, shaking the glass like a specialist.

“I read Baekhyun’s latest… lyrics. They were rejected,” Jongdae explained. “They made me feel… I don’t know. They weren’t very different from the ones he’s singing…”

“Is that bad?”

“No,” Jongdae said quickly. “They’re good, of course. It’s just that… they’re about romance and falling in love… you know… a few experiences of those summer romances. Casual flings.”

Kyungsoo was a bit more serious. He knew – one of the few people to know – that Baekhyun and Jongdae were together for years, almost eight years since they started to work under the same management as young adults. They were friends and crossing the line was a quiet and easy experience. Jongdae remembered how natural it felt when they held hands, kissed and had sex for the first time; it felt like they were already dating for decades.

“We never had those things,” Jongdae was sincere. “I didn’t think he would miss it. I don’t have a single thing to complain about us but reading those lyrics made me question if… if that’s the image he wants to convey then maybe he wants that… for his personal life too.”

“Oh, good,” Kyungsoo sighed. “I thought you were suspecting that he was cheating on you.”

“Oh, no,” Jongdae smiled and for a second, the atmosphere was a lot lighter.

“Maybe he’s following a trend, trying to get the songs accepted,” Kyungsoo suggested politely. “Or maybe he’s fantasizing. It’s okay to do it a little, I guess. You don’t always write about him too.”

“No, but I do talk about my past experiences. Sometimes I change the pronouns and that’s all.”

Kyungsoo drank from his glass and licked his lips and Jongdae already knew that he didn’t want to share his thoughts about that anymore.

“How’s he taking the reviews?” Kyungsoo asked carefully, changing the subject.

“Bad,” Jongdae said. “You know he’s still sensitive, despite being a lot tougher today.”

“What happened?”

“Anxiety crisis, crying, not sleeping,” Jongdae sighed.

Kyungsoo stared at him, still playing with the glass; the Shakespearean vibe of the house suddenly turned into an alternative drama movie.

“That’s natural,” he finally said, his face barely moving. “Not bad. If I’m here today, it’s because he didn’t give up and_ that _would be bad.”

Jongdae sat straight again; that was a great point.

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“He’s a bit dramatic but I’m sure he’ll use this to become better, as he should,” Kyungsoo added, straightforward and sincere as always. “He’s suffering because he’s ambitious and he wants to become a better actor. I understand it and I get that you don’t.”

Jongdae wasn’t offended – he knew very well he wasn’t someone with great ambitions, except when it came to singing, if much. He smiled again.

“I needed to hear that,” he said. “Thank you. My friends are unreachable at this moment. I mean, my friends that aren’t Baekhyun’s friends too.”

“I am friends with Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo frowned.

“But you can keep a secret from him,” Jongdae winked.

He was caught on his dissertation for days. His sparse schedules weren’t his priority, even if he was always trying to work to create a more diverse album and that required a lot of researching too. In days like these, Jongdae was happy that he enrolled in university, in the first place. Work could be consuming and draining, so having something else to think was a relief. He decided to keep studying and Baekhyun wanted to focus on his music career after graduating.

Jongdae took his reading glasses off and rubbed his eyes. All he thought about was how he and Baekhyun were becoming different people. They used to be so similar when they met that people were scared of the coincidences… the universe convergence to make them meet and get together.

To be honest, it wasn’t a recent change. They always wanted to create different music and their albums reflected their tastes, even the smallest details. As time went by, their routines changed too. Jongdae opted for having more free time, taking fewer gigs and spending time with his family and friends. Baekhyun barely had time to spend with his dog (which, Jongdae truthfully accepted, was the most important being in his life) as he was packed with schedules of all sorts.

Jongdae put his glasses on and went back to read the article. He had a strict deadline to send it to his advisor, even if he wanted to sit down on the couch, drink wine and watch that weird Spanish novella he was enjoying way too much.

Mongryong barked from the couch like it could read Jongdae’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Jongdae said. “Right now, I can’t cuddle.”

The dog barked again and then let out a sad sound. Poor baby, Jongdae thought. He stared at the screen and sighed.

“Well, I have money,” he shrugged. “I don’t need this.”

He left his studying spot and applied a face mask. He would call it a self-care night, so he opened the expensive wine bottle on the top shelf and sat on the couch, allowing Mongryong to sit on his lap. He put on the subtitles, so he could repeat the words in Spanish.

“Después… Dés… pues,” he said, playing with the glass. “Mi amor… Mongryong… tu es mi amor.”

The dog didn’t mind, but at least looked at him, happy.

“Después,” Jongdae repeated. His phone was ringing by his side, but there were enough people he wanted to ignore. He kept watching the novella and drinking. The doorbell rang and he sighed – Baekhyun forgot the keys again. He moved the dog from his lap and went to open the door, which took one to two minutes (Jongdae really was convinced to buy a house that big, huh).

It wasn’t Baekhyun. It was his brother.

“Hello,” Baekbeom said, dressed like he just left work. Jongdae was suddenly aware of his face mask. “They let me in… because Baekhyun warned them I was going to get the dog…”

“Oh, of course,” Jongdae made a movement to let him in. “I’m sorry I was surprised. Baekhyun told me nothing.”

“Typical,” he says, entering the room very carefully. “But it’s just that. I won’t take dog food or anything else. I’ll drop Mongryong by mom’s.”

“I see,” Jongdae smiled and kept a distance. “Do you want anything? Water, wine, food or…”

“No, no need,” Baekbeom smiled back and it was so awkward that Jongdae frowned. “I’m fine.”

“Ok, so I’ll grab the little boy, take a seat,” he joked, walking away as soon as he could. At least Mongryong was happy to be rescued. Jongdae found Baekbeom standing in the same place, rubbing his arms.

“Here,” Jongdae gave him the dog, holding it like a child.

“Thanks,” he said. “This house looks like… a horror movie scenario, sometimes.”

“Oh, I know it very, very well,” Jongdae sighed. “It’s very quiet, though. No ghosts or serial killers until now.”

Baekbeom even laughed, which was rewarding. Jongdae knew that Baekhyun was a serious person when he was by himself, but his brother was like that every single second.

“I hope so,” he nodded. “Well, I’m going. It was nice to see you.”

“And my face mask,” Jongdae said, containing a smile. He got another laugh before closing the door and letting out a big sigh.

“This is why I don’t take him home,” he whispered to the hiding ghosts on his house. It was hard to deal with the confusion underneath the politeness that Baekhyun’s family treated him with. They never had a problem or made him feel excluded, but it wasn’t natural. Jongdae understood. It was hard for both of them to deal with their own relationship, he couldn’t expect their families to accept any easier.

Nothing to complain, nothing to be proud of. He returned to the couch, stepping on the oversized pants.

“Después,” he said to no one.

He was awakened by the noise again, but this time it wasn’t as nearly as pleasant as the piano; it was a crash. He jumped on the couch and held the empty wine glass before it hit the floor. Still taken by the sleep dizziness, he rubbed his face, scared.

“Please, not now, ghosts,” he mumbled. “I have things to do.”

Baekhyun laughed.

“Not a ghost but I kinda feel like one,” he said while picking a box off the floor. “I got a few free products from the photoshoot…”

“Okay,” Jongdae looks at him. He’s still fully dressed, make-up on and looking like a walking poster. It was somehow disturbing to see him that way but it fit that house better than any other object or furniture.

“Didn’t you have uni shit to do?” Baekhyun asked, stopping for a moment to look at the mess on the couch.

“Your brother picked your dog,” Jongdae said immediately and then, for the first time, he noticed that he had never called Mongryong ‘our dog’. Baekhyun got the dog when they lived in separated houses but…

“Ah, damn, I forgot to tell you,” Baekhyun sighed and walked again, disappearing under the corridor’s shadows. “I’m sorry…”

Jongdae stretched slowly before he started to clean the mess he made. Between dusting off the couch and washing the dishes, he found time to check if Baekhyun was alive; it was just a long bath, it seemed. When he came back from taking out the trash, he was too tired to climb the stairs, so he considered not going to bed and sleep on the couch.

It worked for a minute – until his boyfriend found him.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun said, sitting next to him. His wet hair was dripping on the couch, he was still wrapped on the towel and that was the moment when Jongdae gave up on cleaning whatever he had to. “I should’ve warned you about him…”

“No problem,” Jongdae lied, smiling. “I like your brother.”

Baekhyun held Jongdae’s face with his wet hands and inspected him.

“Then why are you here? You’re smelling like that strawberry face mask,” he giggled. “I know you.”

“I was just studying and then… I realized I didn’t have to,” Jongdae said, closing his eyes. “I’m too old to keep forcing myself to do things just because I feel like I have to.”

Baekhyun kissed him, involving Jongdae in that scented soap and fresh aura. Jongdae kissed him back lazily, not putting any effort into anything but tasting his wet mouth.

“Novellas, I bet,” Baekhyun whispered and kissed him again, an open-mouthed, deep kiss. Jongdae sighed in his mouth, surprised, and held him as a reflex. Baekhyun’s cold hands left his face and grabbed his waist over the thin fabric of his old shirt. Too cold, he felt it and gasped.

“I’m tired,” Jongdae said, breaking the kiss. Baekhyun kissed his warm neck, and his cold face made it feel warm like Jongdae was feverish.

“Me too,” Baekhyun whispered. “But I’m missing you.”

It was true. A simple statement carried so many hidden truths. It had been a while since they had sex, a while since they did something together as a couple, a while since they were… well, a romantic pair and not just two best friends living together.

“I’m not in the mood,” Jongdae said. He was too much in his head, too distant, he just wanted to flop on bed and sleep.

“I can put you in the mood,” Baekhyun said and he was so calm, so gentle, that Jongdae felt like an old hag. “You don’t have to do anything, if you want to.”

Jongdae let his head fall back, compliant. He took his shirt off, undressed like he was really into it; he kissed, tongue and saliva, everything. It wasn’t the lack of trying, oh no. He looked down and watched Baekhyun’s broad shoulders and wet hair on his face, mouth sliding down Jongdae’s belly so softly and nicely.

Baekhyun was gorgeous, Jongdae realized again, the same realization he had every day.

He took Jongdae in his mouth with ease since they knew each other’s body as their own. Jongdae’s body reacted to the familiar touch as well and he closed his eyes for a second because he knew Baekhyun would stare at him with a full cheek and a lusty expression and he didn’t want to disappoint with a dumb face as a response. He really wasn’t in the mood.

Yet, his dick was hard and it felt good to be sucked on the couch carelessly, to just relax and enjoy.

“You can fuck me,” Jongdae suggested. It felt like a waste of Baekhyun’s pretty hands to be jerking himself off.

Baekhyun didn’t answer. He slipped down to the floor, holding Jongdae’s cock with one hand and his own with the other, licking and spitting as much as he could. He sucked Jongdae again, lips tight against the head and the wet noise echoing far. He came way before Jongdae, so he used his dirty hand to finish the job.

Jongdae’s orgasm was a little uncomfortable. It felt like a purely biological response, even if he was actually happy that they had sex. He felt detached and relieved, breathing slowly. Baekhyun stood up and said something about eating something (he was complaining about the taste, probably) and his voice was distant, echoing.

Jongdae slapped himself to not fall asleep – he wasn’t going to pass out without a bath. Baekhyun kept talking like a backing track.

Jongdae was walking slowly, enjoying the last piece of a good meal. The corridors were crowded, a full working day. Once in a while he had to smile and wave to someone, hands still holding the cup in an awkward way.

“Let’s take the stairs,” Seungwan said. “It’ll give us a few minutes.”

“I hope so,” Jongdae confessed, allowing her to guide him by the arm. “I’m not in the mood to come back now.”

Seungwan stared at him with a confusing smile on her face.

“What’s that? That’s why you had to record a song in two takes like us, poor mortal singers?”

He snorted.

“Maybe, I’m sleepy. I want to go back home.”

She wanted to open the thick door but he did it first, giving her a space to walk in. She seemed to be thinking about something because she didn’t say ‘thank you’.

“Are you tired?” She asked. “I thought you would be a lot better than Baekhyun since he’s having a ton of activities.”

“I’m not tired at all,” Jongdae smiled. “I’m just focused on finishing my uni papers. Also, why does everyone compare Baekhyun and me? It’s not like we’re just singers anymore.”

“Well, you’re the same age, you’re both singers with nice albums, from the same company and you’re best friends,” she took a breath. “And… other things.”

“Like popularity?” Jongdae mocked. Seungwan rolled her eyes.

They got on the right floor and Jongdae didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to have lessons; he wanted to go back home and study, to go to a studio and compose or to go out to eat ice-cream.

“I know you’re younger than me and I’m doing this for a longer time,” he said, leaning on the door, instead of opening it. “But do you feel like you’re getting too old for this?”

Seungwan laughed, crossing her arms.

“Of course, Jongdae. Unlike you, I have to dance and I never liked to dance. It’s being a while and I’m still not that confident,” she sighed. “There’s just this moment when you sit down and think well, is this how I’m going to live for the rest of my life? No regular sleep, an awful dorm, dieting, no control, no personal life. I mean, _you_ can have a house, a boyfriend and you can sing your songs now, so, imagine us, in motherfucking groups.”

“You said a bad word,” he points, shocked.

“It’s not like I hate it, I mean, I love my girls,” she explained quickly. “But well, I wanted to sing and that’s all and it’s a hard price to pay for that. What keeps me going is that I know that in the future I’ll be able to do what I want.”

Jongdae bit his lips, thinking.

“I think this is the moment,” he whispered.

Seungwan gaped, of course. She opened the door and checked if someone was behind it and then closed it again.

“Are you thinking about leaving?”

“No, I still have a couple of years,” Jongdae sighed. “It’s the time to say no.”

“Oh,” she was impressed. “Yes, I get it. I’m not the one to do that.”

“Me neither, but… I guess I have no choice, for now. I’m just… changing my perspective.”

“How about Baekhyun?” She asked suddenly.

Jongdae looked at her, confused.

“What about him?”

“I mean, you two moved in,” she whispered. “I thought maybe… you two were planning something.”

“No,” Jongdae said. “We didn’t. That’s just me.”

She nodded slowly.

“Just make sure you have this thing figured out before you tell them anything. Change of mind may be worse than certain demands.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I came here today, after all. I can’t just leave.”

“No one can,” she opened the door. “We just get dumped.”

.

Jongdae bought lasagna because he had to pass by the dance studio. He was politely informed that Baekhyun had already left, which meant he was probably with Kyungsoo at home, so Jongdae wanted to impress both.

The doors were open and they were in the middle of the living room; Baekhyun looked exhausted already, standing in one foot and holding the other leg. Kyungsoo was in front of him, holding a paper and they have dressed alike, all black sports clothes. Jongdae tiptoed his way in and set the table for them. He should have put some music, some nice jazz, then it would be a nice dinner. He missed listening to music at home…

He went back to talk to them at the right time: Kyungsoo was about to leave.

“Hey,” Jongdae whined. “I bought lasagna for you, man!”

“For him?” Baekhyun crossed his arms, panting. “What?”

“It’s a fancy dish, otherwise I would buy you pizza,” Jongdae explained and Baekhyun nodded, after all.

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo said, putting his cap on. “I have a plane to catch.”

Jongdae was really disappointed, but he smiled anyway. Unfortunately for him, Kyungsoo was too perceptive to ignore the signs and he lingered, slightly worried.

“When I get back, I’ll pay you a visit,” he said softly. “Until there, take care of Baekhyun. He has trouble breathing.”

Jongdae looked at the way Baekhyun was walking; he was still panting slowly. He was frozen for a moment and then snapped out of it.

“Sit down, I’ll get the nebulizer,” Jongdae said and ran away as fast as he could. His hands were shaking while he was picking the solution to put on the nebulizer and he was aware that it wasn’t a scary situation, once in a while most of them needed that. Yet he was worried, trembling, because he simply didn’t notice Baekhyun’s physical state.

Baekhyun was sitting by the door, shirtless, and his hair was pushed back when Jongdae found him. He took the nebulizer from Jongdae’s hands and put it himself. Jongdae sat next to him, feeling the wind on his face.

“Sorry,” Jongdae said, caressing his boyfriend’s hair.

Baekhyun frowned and shrugged. _It's all in a day's work_.

“Take a nap with me,” Jongdae suggested. Baekhyun didn’t answer but leaned on him slowly. Jongdae held him. It was quite nice to be like that for a while, but soon Baekhyun pulled down the mask and looked up.

“I’ll have to dance,” he mumbled. “They’ll put me in a group.”

“A group?” Jongdae was a mix of confused, angry and shocked. “After all those years? Don’t you do very well on your own?”

“Yes, I do,” he nodded, rubbing his head against Jongdae’s chest. “But it’s with other group members and soloists, just for promotion…”

“And that’s why you’re like—wait,” Jongdae gulped. “And you said yes? You can barely deal with that clothing brand stuff!”

“It felt like a challenge,” Baekhyun closed his eyes. “They’re all real dancers…”

“You’re a real dancer,” Jongdae sighed, pinching him lightly. “You’ve been dancing for eight years with back dancers of your own.”

“Not the same,” Baekhyun put the mask on again. Jongdae wanted to hit his head repeatedly against the door but he managed to let it go due to Baekhyun’s state. It didn’t take long until Baekhyun was napping, which wasn’t a surprise at all. Jongdae stared at him and he had a déjà vu.

“I love you, you poop head,” he grunted.

He wasn’t ready to think about it, to think about the consequences of this information yet. He enjoyed hugging his boyfriend for a while.

.

He ended up spending his composing day eating the cold lasagna, alone, until the production team called. They asked Jongdae to go to a new studio but Jongdae said he was too tired; it worked. In a matter of thirty minutes, they sent a guy to his house. Jongdae had to change his clothes in five minutes, which was the exact time they brought him from the gates to his house.

“Hello,” Jongdae screamed, running, as soon as he heard the doorbell. “I’m coming.”

The guy was standing like a statue, holding two bubble teas. He was expressionless while looking down at Jongdae.

“Sorry,” Jongdae said. “The house is pretty big and I wasn’t near…”

“Yes,” the man said. “I’m friend with your friends. They’ve told me.”

Jongdae frowned.

“Baekhyun?” He tested the waters. “Minseok?”

“Yes,” the man nodded, standing in the same spot. “And Kyungsoo.”

“Good,” Jongdae got out of the way. “I’m Kim Jongdae, by the way.”

“I’m Sehun,” he said, walking in elegantly. He looked around, impressed. “This is nice. I like places like this one.”

Jongdae didn’t know how to answer that. Sehun walked in a bit shyly, always a bit insecure about how to move, so he had to help the guy to feel comfortable.

“We can talk in the garden, if you want to,” he offered, trying to escape from the weight of the walls around them. The guy answered by offering him one of the bubble teas.

“Tiger sugar,” Sehun told him. “I hope you like.”

“That’s sweet,” Jongdae smiled sincerely. “Thank you.”

They went to the garden after Jongdae picked the notebooks and pens. Sehun carried the rattan chairs and found a spot between the flowers. It was touching, like Jongdae has a scratch on his chest, to see how carefully he placed them, how worried he was with the plants around.

“So you’re a producer, Sehun,” Jongdae asked, sitting down. “Right?”

“Yes, I am a producer and a lyricist. I help to compose with pretty much everything,” he played with the pink straw of his bubble tea. “I was supposed to debut with a group, but I passed out while training and my parents didn’t allow me to become an idol after that.”

It made sense, Jongdae thought, inspecting Sehun’s perfect face and broad shoulders. He looked like a real celebrity.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae felt guilty, even with no reason.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t handle being a celebrity anyway, I’ve seen how you all live and I would feel very lonely, I think,” Sehun mumbled and his voice sounded very agreeable, very sweet. “I found a way to get money with music.”

“You probably earn a lot more than many idols,” Jongdae thought out loud.

“That’s not a challenge,” Sehun laughed and Jongdae smiled sadly. “But I don’t earn more than Baekhyun, that’s for sure.”

He looked up to the house and a fraction of light hit on his face, making his eyes look like pure honey. Jongdae wanted to sing something nice to fit that quiet, calm atmosphere of his.

“I don’t earn as much as him,” Jongdae confessed, licking his lips. “I feel like this is a good conversation to explain why I’m not going to your studio or the company building for a while.”

Sehun looked at him without saying anything. He looked like he was a good listener.

“This is my first house,” Jongdae sighed, frustrated, but still smiling. “I used to sleep in a tiny dorm with two other guys, Baekhyun and Minseok. We were supposed to be in a group, but they notice we weren’t the best dancers, but okay vocalists—”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the best vocalists in the country,” Sehun interrupted him.

“Thank you,” Jongdae was shy. “As I was saying… Minseok left with his boyfriend… and me and Baekhyun, we went through some bad things here. We weren’t that successful when we started… people need time to buy solo artists’ albums, I guess. I know we look wealthy now and we are, but we started from the bottom.”

“Yes,” Sehun nodded.

“So you can see… I need to… move on? And moving on is that I want to enjoy my private life, my house, my garden, and everything. Now I can ask for things and they listen to me. I’m someone and not a regular, unknown singer,” Jongdae tried to explain seriously, so Sehun didn’t think he was showing off. “I don’t want to make your life harder and I certainly am not the kind of celebrity that demands special treatment so you can tell me if you don’t want to work under these conditions.”

Sehun was drinking his bubble tea, eyes moving like he was calculating something.

“No,” he said, licking his lips. “I’m fine with it if you give us space to work here. We’ll have to bring a lot of things.”

“We have empty rooms,” Jongdae said, excited. “Baekhyun really wanted to turn one of them in a small studio for us. The piano is still in the middle of the house.”

Sehun took a phone from his pocket.

“I think we can start soon, so it won’t take much time.”

“They gave me four months,” Jongdae pointed. “I normally write really fast and record even faster.”

“Okay,” Sehun whispered.

“Thanks,” Jongdae was relieved. “Thank you so much for being comprehensive.”

“I love home design,” Sehun said simply. “I wish I could work from home.”

“Mi casa, su casa,” Jongdae smiled and bit the straw, instead of drinking his tea.

Baekhyun only came home at two in the morning, when Jongdae was sleeping after a long day of discussing and deciding the next activities. Jongdae was wrapped in the thick blankets, still dressed and the tv was on.

“Babe,” Baekhyun shook his arm gently. “Babe, wake up.”

Jongdae opened one eye only and waited until Baekhyun’s face was no longer a blurred image.

“Yes,” he said without thinking.

“I need to catch a plane,” Baekhyun said slowly, sensing that Jongdae was only half-awake. “I got an unexpected schedule. I was invited to replace a model on the Gucci runway in Rome.”

“Rome?” Jongdae yawned, confused. “Good… did you pick your passport? Your papers?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun smiled. “Yes, I’m ready to go. I just wanted to warn you.”

“Okay,” Jongdae rubbed his face. “Have a nice trip.”

Baekhyun kissed him on the mouth before leaving. Jongdae fell asleep again easily.

It took more time than planned to set everything in a room and, because of that, some meetings happened in Jongdae’s room. Luckily, he and Baekhyun had just moved in and didn’t have time to leave their pictures or couple things, so, for some of the team, only Jongdae slept on that bed.

Sehun was always the last one to leave. He liked to chat or just sit around, lingering.

“I’ll feed you with everything I bought for Kyungsoo and he didn’t eat,” Jongdae smiled. “He practically lives in Japan now.”

“He’s happy,” Sehun said simply.

“I bet he is,” Jongdae offered wine to Sehun. They always got the same spot in the garden, no matter if it was raining or windy. Sehun didn’t mind and Jongdae found that exciting, to not care about small things. A relief.

“Thank you,” Sehun accepted the glass.” You drink… a lot of wine.”

“Yes,” Jongdae sighed. “I know. Bad habit.”

Sehun sipped the wine and Jongdae was sure that the producer was much more suited to that house than the owners. Tall Sehun, with his button shirts and long legs in jeans, few words, and stoic figure. Jongdae could see him drinking whiskey and having an affair with a famous foreigner, fucking in the kitchen and waking up wrapped in a blanket.

“It’s good,” Sehun said simply. “Sweet.”

Jongdae liked sweet things, softer, not that much. He dreamed of living in the countryside, a small village. If he dated someone like Seungwan or Kyungsoo, he would be having kids by now, worrying about schools and vaccines.

“Do you think that we can finish this album soon?” He asked to Sehun.

“Yes,” Sehun said. “I’ve finished albums sooner and you’re a professional. I don’t see any problem.”

Jongdae nodded and thought about Baekhyun in a runway in Rome and how, if he wasn’t stuck with uni and the album thing, he could catch a plane to see him. To have breakfast with him in such a beautiful place, only the two of them.

“Do you want to quit?” Sehun asked suddenly and his empty glass reflected the lights on the garden.

“Not yet,” Jongdae sighed. “I just don’t want to leave a cage to run into another.”

Sehun didn’t say anything. Jongdae yawned, rubbing his slippers on the ground like an old man. He was happy, after all.

“I’ll go, it’s late,” Sehun stood up.

“You don’t have to,” Jongdae took his glass gently. “You can drink more… we have a private driver here in the Villa.”

“No, it’s just…” Sehun looked away. “I want to go.”

“Ah, that’s okay,” Jongdae stood up too, lazy and kind of high. “I’ll go with you… until… the door.”

Sehun snorted. Jongdae was drunk and sleepy, too old to be casually drinking every day. They walked in silence; the dark walls and the ghosts said nothing too. 

“Goodbye,” Jongdae said, rushing to get there first and open the door. Sehun had long, long legs.

“See ya,” Sehun said hesitantly, holding the door too. Jongdae looked at how their hands were close and looked up, a bit dizzy. Sehun leaned down and in a natural gesture, simple as breathing, kissed Jongdae in the mouth. Jongdae didn’t react; it felt surreal as if he was watching a movie and not… being a part of the scene. Then, to his surprise, he kissed back, leaning a bit to allow Sehun to get closer.

It was probably the tipsiest tongue-kissing action he had and he was glad that it didn’t last long enough or he would drool and it wouldn’t be pretty. Sehun didn’t say anything when he broke the kiss and left – at this point, Jongdae should have been used to his silent ways.

He stood there, waiting for something else, some reminders that this hadn’t happened at all, it was just a hallucination. Since nothing happened, he eventually closed the door and went straight to bed.

.

Minseok met him on the University’s parking lot. He was chubbier and paler, looking happy and even younger.

“So you’re alive,” Jongdae ran to hug him tightly. Minseok laughed, that high pitched, cute sound.

“Finished my thesis,” he sang, rubbing Jongdae’s back. “You can call me doctor.”

“You’re my doctor,” Jongdae smiled. “I love you.”

“How about you,” Minseok said, reaching to hold Jongdae’s hand as soon as they stopped hugging. “Are you finishing your masters?”

“Yes, finally,” Jongdae said. “Got an extra time for this task only, delayed my album…”

“How can we survive without your ballads?” Minseok laughs, his soft and cute laugh. “That’s offensive, it must be illegal.”

“Ah, so charming,” Jongdae holds his hand back – he missed that calm, ease affection that they had. “How’s Luhan?”

“Doing some crazy stuff as always,” Minseok shrugs. “His team won the national championship and let me say, he’s almost a hero now and it’s messing with him. He got overconfident; I can’t stand him.”

“Yes, of course, that’s probably why you never leave him,” Jongdae winked. “You’re locked in that country! I see you twice a year, now. I wasn’t ready to get new best friends, but your absence is making me look for other people…”

“That’s cheating and it’s illegal,” Minseok mocked, but Jongdae’s body reacted even before he noticed. A tiny shock, as of he touched a too-hot-tea-mug or a too-cold-beer-cup, his body as surprised as he was.

Minseok looked at him.

“What?”

Jongdae’s mouth was twisted. They weren’t like they used to be. Miles and months between them. Minseok would never understand because he was their friend when_ this _wasn’t there. This, whatever it was, Jongdae realized, whatever problem that arose while they were sleeping. Minseok knew Baekhyun-and-Jongdae, best-best friends, chill partners flirting with people and holding their hands in the dark.

“Nothing,” Jongdae shrugged. “I just remembered something.”

“Ah,” Minseok said. “I see.”

They kept walking and Jongdae told him about the house, the dog, the new studio. Baekhyun’s name was implicit, never there. After all, Minseok was Baekhyun’s friend, too.

.

Jongdae really wanted to talk about it, but he was aware that there was a right time to do so.

He had tried to bring up while Baekhyun was home, but it would be cruel to have a conversation while Baekhyun was trying to rest. He looked more and more exhausted as the days went by, travelling to the other side of the world and coming back as if it were just a train ride to the next neighborhood. Jongdae left food on the fridge, clean clothes and his sandals at the door, but they rarely met for a long time, despite sometimes waking up together.

Jongdae got another final deadline because his uni supervisor was nice and, he wasn’t that dumb, people knew he was famous. His label would never, but at least he had finished recording and jacket filming. They were talking about busking, radio talks and post-production, setting a date for the release.

That was Baekhyun got his first vacation in months: ten days. He went to his family house as soon as he arrived from the last concert and Jongdae started to overthink how he could talk about what had happened without turning it into a big mess.

At first, he was convinced that it wasn’t affecting him at all. He kept his routine, talked to his own family, did everything that his manager asked him to. But as time went by and Baekhyun was already excited about the two of them spending some time together, Jongdae started overthinking. At some point, he was ready to give up and just bury the topic, forget it completely… but he felt guilty. No matter how much he convinced himself that, if the situation were inverted, he wouldn’t mind; he didn’t want to assume things.

Baekhyun woke him up in the middle of his afternoon nap.

“Brought my mom’s food,” he announced, almost screaming, hitting doors. “Come on!”

Jongdae had to drag himself on his old slippers and pajamas and face Baekhyun’s glow, his new hair color, his smile with chubbier cheeks and restored hunger.

“Hello,” he said, sitting on the table.

Baekhyun was picking plates, holding a bowl, mumbling something. His t-shirt was some old merch and he didn’t care about the open windows as the sun was going down.

“So are you hungry?” Baekhyun smiled at him for a second, before going back to his task. “How are you? Did you finish the school thing? How about the album?”

Jongdae rubbed his face.

“I’m finishing,” he said simply, smiling back. “Doing things slowly, at my own pace.”

Baekhyun stopped moving for a second. He put the things he was holding on the table and pulled the chair next to Jongdae, sitting close.

“Yeah,” he leaned in and kissed his boyfriend briefly. “I know. I feel calmer just by looking at you.”

“I wasn’t like that,” Jongdae blinked. “I used to be an electric demon.”

“We’re getting older,” Baekhyun said simply and pushed Jongdae’s hair back. “Get used to it.”

Jongdae opened his mouth, but Baekhyun stood up to finish whatever he was up to. He served a bowl to Jongdae before sitting back to eat his own. Jongdae wasn’t interested in food or small talk. As he was watching Baekhyun chewing, eyes closed and pleased, he just felt worse.

“I need to tell you something,” Jongdae spat suddenly. “Can we talk?”

Baekhyun looked at him and nodded, still chewing.

“I kissed someone,” Jongdae said.

Baekhyun kept chewing; he frowned, confused.

“I don’t get it,” he wiped his mouth. “What do you mean?”

“I kissed someone while you weren’t here,” Jongdae said and he felt no relief.

“Okay,” Baekhyun was definitely confused. “And that’s… relevant… because?”

He didn’t get it, Jongdae noticed.

“It was… a French kiss,” Jongdae explained, gulping. He was fidgeting with the napkins.

“Was it a work thing?” Baekhyun rubbed his neck slowly, unfocused.

“No,” Jongdae said simply.

The silence was palpable while Baekhyun’s expression translated the moment when he finally realized what was going on.

“Why?” He asked, still frowning, but his voice was stable and calm.

“What?” Jongdae was surprised.

“I’m asking why,” Baekhyun repeated. “You said you kissed someone and I want to know why.”

“I don’t know why,” Jongdae answered quickly. “It just happened.”

“So it was like porn, you suddenly tripped and then you kissed someone?” He asked and, maybe for someone that didn’t know him as Jongdae did, it would sound playful. “Your tongue slipped inside someone’s mouth accidentally— well, _fuck_, who?”

Jongdae regretted the whole conversation. He shouldn’t have brought it up.

“Is it a secret?” Baekhyun asked, still sounding like he was joking. “Or maybe I should just guess? It seems like a fun game.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jongdae sighed. “It was irrelevant.”

They stayed in silence for long minutes; the food remained untouched. Baekhyun stretched his neck like he was about to perform.

“You don’t get to drop something fucked up like that and say nothing after,” he finally said. “You need to explain yourself, at least.”

Fair enough.

“One of the producers was here and we drank together. When he was about to leave, he kissed me,” Jongdae summed up. “That was all. I don’t talk to him since.”

Baekhyun didn’t say anything at first. He stood up again and announced, like he was acting on a movie,

“I need to digest this,” and he left the kitchen. His bowl was on the same spot, still warm.

Jongdae gave him space and went back to bed; after a while, he heard the song.

“I hate this piano,” Jongdae mumbled before falling asleep.

On the following day, he found Baekhyun sleeping on the couch, still wearing socks. The windows were open and it was too windy for him to use just that thin blanket. Jongdae made him coffee and left it next to the couch. He closed the windows and left. He watched a child’s movie on his brother’s house, next to his nephew.

He wasn’t afraid, scared or… anything. He was waiting for a storm.

Baekhyun wasn’t home when he came back. Jongdae checked the closets and the rooms – for a scary moment, he was afraid that the clothes weren’t there. That the bags and suitcases weren’t there too.

But everything seemed normal and Baekhyun came back home at night, slightly drunk and confused. Jongdae watched him crawling into the couch.

“Go to bed,” Jongdae said, still a few meters away. “I can sleep in the studio. There’s a mattress there.”

Baekhyun raised his arm and made a dismissive gesture. Jongdae went back to bed and slept alone.

The first thing he did after he got out of the bed was to clear his schedule. He was feeling heavy and lazy like his body wasn’t cooperating. They were used to watch him refusing to leave home, anyway. Baekhyun wasn’t inside the house. He was sitting in the garden, drinking juice and looking at something far away. Jongdae joined him.

“Good morning,” he said, finding a spot to sit on. “Can I…?”

Baekhyun nodded and sipped his juice.

“Do you want to talk?” Jongdae asked softly. “Or do you need more time?”

He sighed; the wind was messing with his big, loose white shirt.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m expecting you to do the talk, to be honest.”

“What do you want me to talk about?” Jongdae was concerned. “You just have to ask, you know.”

Baekhyun looked at him, serious, like he was analyzing something.

“I kept thinking that was my fault, you know,” he said simply with a quiet voice. “I’m not around and… we share a house but I’m not here.”

“It’s not,” Jongdae said quickly.

“I know, I know, but that doesn’t calm me at all,” Baekhyun said, eyes on the floor. “Because then I don’t know why you would do that, not you, I mean. I can even picture myself kissing someone because I was too much into some weird playing, I was following my mind. Too much on character, trying to look cool or anything. But not you.”

Jongdae didn’t have an argument of any sort.

“Maybe you’re taking this too seriously. You know I wouldn’t mind if you kissed someone.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Baekhyun sighed. “Because you see, I also don’t mind that you kissed someone. I’m afraid to find out why.”

“Why do you want to know why? It’s on the past,” Jongdae argued. “There’s—

“But do you know the reason?” Baekhyun asked suddenly, his voice slightly louder. “Did you get horny? This stranger was particularly too attractive? Do you want an open relationship? Do you want to break up?”

“No, no…” Jongdae whispered. “Not at all.”

“Because lately you’ve been so weird,” Baekhyun rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know why you do stuff anymore. I keep finding out because I overhear people talking? I know you have plans but I don’t know if I’m included in them and fuck, I don’t even know if I’m doing something wrong! I’m lost! And I used to… I used to be your best friend first?”

“You’re still my best friend,” Jongdae said and he reached out to touch Baekhyun’s arm. “And I love you so much.”

Baekhyun looked at Jongdae’s hand on him.

“Then why did you kiss someone else?”

Jongdae let his arms fall, tired. He wasn’t avoiding to answer that – it’s just that he liked to understand everything before he got to answer it. He liked to be sure, to choose the correct words and never use them as a weapon, not even accidentally.

“I found your writings, your lyrics,” Jongdae started, connecting words to deliver a simple speech. “And I got… worried about… that maybe you wanted to live a different life, a different… relationship and other experiences.”

He gulped and took a deep breath before continuing,

“And I think I started thinking about that, how it was like to be in… to be someone else's. Or… live another life, I mean. So when he kissed me, I just… let me try this.”

Baekhyun stared at him and nodded:

“I get it,” he said, licking his lips. “That’s what I like about acting… and writing. That I don’t have to be me. That I can experience to live under a different skin. To simulate a new version of me. But you know what’s my favorite thing? That’s just pretending. In the end, I like my own life. I love to sing, I love myself, I love my house and I love my boyfriend. I don’t want the simulation.”

Jongdae felt a wave of guilt and shame; he turned his face away.

“I’m tired,” Baekhyun sounded impatient. “I don’t care if it’s going to hurt, just tell me.”

“I’m changing,” Jongdae said sincerely. “I don’t want a lot of things that I used to. I don’t want to be forced to do what they want me to? I want to create my own art, I want to watch my novellas and eat fast food with the most sugary bubble tea… I don’t want to entertain anyone. I just want to live in a more…”

He noticed. Jongdae finally noticed what was bothering him, after all.

“I also think this house is too much,” he confessed. “I don’t need all of this.”

Baekhyun looked hurt. Jongdae knew that he only bought because they were going to live together. Jongdae should’ve told him sooner, of course.

“I’m not the same person I used to be,” Jongdae explained. “But that doesn’t mean that it changes the way I feel about you.”

“Of fucking course it does,” Baekhyun spat. “Do you think I’m a fool? I knew something was different. I have to beg to get your attention. I have to beg for sex? That’s absolutely ridiculous.”

Jongdae was taken aback.

“You don’t expect me to demand anything from you when you’re exhausted the entire day,” Jongdae said defensively. “I don’t—”

Baekhyun stood up, looking down at him.

“Seven years ago we didn’t have time to breathe,” he said, disgusted. “We were broke, exhausted, completely powerless. Yet we didn’t have any of these problems.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say,” Jongdae was defeated. “I love you.”

Baekhyun turned away like he was about to leave, then looked back at him.

“It’s just so fucked up that you thought that I was the one who wanted something different when you clearly didn’t want this anymore,” he was exasperated, a slight disgust in his voice. “Because you know, never in a hundred years, I would question anything we have. This is… fate? I always knew I was going to be a musician; I always knew what I wanted and it brought me straight to you and I never, ever, questioned this. That you were my soulmate. Everyone knows it, even the ones who think we’re just friends.”

He looked at the glass he was holding and, in a classy movement, threw it on the floor. The juice poured on the garden, bright yellow tainting the flowers. Jongdae didn’t move.

“But well,” he said like he didn’t care about the mess that he just made. “If you hate the house, take your things and go. I don’t want to force you to be here.”

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae said carefully. “I don’t want to leave.”

“But I want you to leave,” he said, too serious. “Right now.”

.


	2. style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read the taaaaaaaaaaags

.

Minseok was waiting right after the gate, standing completely casual. They both knew that Jongdae’s fans were aware of his coming and the flashes started as soon as he appeared. Jongdae even picked a few fan letters before Minseok grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“No bodyguards?” He said, rushing. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m pretty sure that the company knows I want to leave,” Jongdae whispered. “No special treatment anymore.”

“You can pay your own,” Minseok complained. “Holy shit. I don’t have this rush in years!”

“I just wanted to be alone for a while,” Jongdae sighed. “My fans are chill.”

“I was talking about the journalists,” Minseok pointed to a car. “That one.”

He waited until Minseok got in and then entered the car, keeping the fan letters in the bag before even touching the seatbelt. Minseok drove patiently, despite the fact that someone could be following them.

“So,” he coughed. “What happened?”

“I think we broke up,” Jongdae shrugged.

“You_ think_?” Minseok snorted, snarky as always.

“Yes,” Jongdae nodded. “He didn’t say it, he kicked me out.”

“Ah,” Minseok tapped the wheel. “And are you able to travel right after? I thought you were busy.”

“Album’s post-production,” Jongdae said. “And I’ll request my Uni supervisor for more time. I’ll… probably delay anything now.”

“That’s insane,” Minseok was almost smiling, confused. “It’s just unbelievable that he broke up with you. I can’t… I can’t understand, really.”

“That’s not insane,” he leaned his head back on the seat. “Relationships end.”

“You know Baekhyun is kind of crazy about you, right?” Minseok was still using a playful tone, even if he looked concerned. “I can’t picture it. I simply can’t.”

“It wasn’t about love,” Jongdae whispered. “We love each other.”

It hit him, to say that out loud. It was like he was finally underlining the problem, making it rise above a sea of disconnected words. Jongdae knew that somehow it was inevitable to grow apart, _someday_, because they didn’t resemble the younger version of themselves that used to be so alike and so naïve. Even being side by side, life made them look different ways but—

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Minseok shrugged. “I’ll leave home tonight. You need to keep an eye on Tan and maybe relax.”

“You don’t have to leave your house because of me,” Jongdae said, fixing the bag on his lap. It started to rain outside and he closed the windows.

“I don’t normally leave my place for… any reason,” Minseok laughed; he was driving slower. “But honestly, I haven’t seen my friends and I wished to go out more since I got my thesis finished. It took me such a long time, you know. I own them those things. Maybe when you feel better, we can go out together.”

“Yes,” Jongdae nods. What was the point of traveling if he was going to be locked at home? “I want to breathe in some fresh air.”

“Oh, honey,” Minseok grinned at him. “That’s… not the place for that. Bring your mask.”

Jongdae felt less irresponsible by answering phone calls and emails. He also agreed with every schedule plan made by his manager as a way to repay him for allowing a trip. Living with Minseok – again – was quite easy; he just had to be aware to not get anything dirty or messy. He tried to read a paper—

His fingers got restless and he opened a tab to search for Baekhyun. Rainy nights like those made him think of their trainee days, those short months while they had to share everything, but nothing was too rushed. The other younger trainees ran around because of school, but they were just graduated, enjoying the only moment of freedom in their lives. Baekhyun would sit on Jongdae’s bed and watch the rain under their blankets (the bedsheets were too cheap and it was best to join forces). Jongdae always had to find things to distract Baekhyun from his anxiousness. He remembered the feeling of their two too-skinny bodies hugging and the humidity around… yes, he was right. Love was easier back then. Love was about survival, too.

“What does love mean now, Tan?”

Minseok had a fancy cat. There was no other way to explain Tan, a blue-eyed, black-and-grey cat that was staring at Jongdae like they were old friends.

Tan didn’t even answer. Mongryong at least had the dignity to bark.

Jongdae sat on Minseok’s couch, alone, warm notebook on his lap, and watched Baekhyun speaking anything from the latest interview. It was the first time, in such a long time, that he looked at Baekhyun’s celebrity persona from a viewer's perspective. Jongdae only had time to see him from the backstage, of course. Everything was different from_ his_ serious Baekhyun; that outshining fake extrovert with a perfect face and no eyebags was certainly entertaining but quite shallow.

He checked the clock on the wall and thought about calling. It had been almost three nights and he knew Baekhyun still had time. Jongdae gave up and went back to reading the paper, instead. He fell asleep easily and he managed to open his eyes when Minseok came in, and for a second, he thought he was back at the huge house with the ghosts and the piano.

In the morning, Jongdae noticed that he was feeling well, escaping from the box for a while, thinking about the future.

“Everything will be better,” he swore to himself and didn’t shed a tear, even if he was sure that his brain didn’t absorb the fact that it was over.

.

He went out on the following day.

The city was insanely crowded and loud; wet alleys, lights from signs and windows. Jongdae was using a long coat and he wasn’t afraid of being spotted at all. He just wanted to taste back this kind of night that was so rare since his debut. Minseok’s friends were pretty much just like him, almost thirty-years-olds with their own boring jobs and lovers, family and bills to pay. Jongdae was used to see Minseok with Luhan, that “perfect face Luhan” with his rich family and insane popularity.

“I don’t bring him here,” Minseok warned Jongdae. “He doesn’t fit.”

Of course not, Jongdae noticed while seating on the corner of a tiny place to eat oily rice and fried pork. Minseok’s friends had_ girlfriends_ and they were just regular women who eventually would become mothers.

“It’s funny,” one of them pointed while they were waiting for the food. “That Minseok studied music and never followed a music career and you’re a singer but you study advertising.”

“Yes,” Minseok agreed. “It was a surprise when I found out that he wasn’t going to follow after me.”

“I just wanted to change a bit,” Jongdae said. “It’s exhausting to do the same thing over and over. Besides, Minseok still can sing very well and he’s a great dancer. It’s never too late.”

Minseok laughed too hard.

“Oh, babe,” he said. “I just wanted to be like my idols, you know? Just because I know how to sing and dance, it doesn’t mean I have to do it.”

“It’s wasted potential,” another friend retorted.

“We have a lot of wasted potentials, some of them we don’t even know about,” Minseok said simply.

Jongdae ate his food in silence.

They had to go back home sooner than he planned, mostly because of Tan; his back was hurting after sleeping on the couch, but he could handle it. Minseok offered the bed a thousand times, but Jongdae didn’t want to bother.

“Hey,” Jongdae said, picking his pillow and blankets. “Can I ask something?”

“Yes,” Minseok was feeding Tan.

“Why did you take me to go out? Do I fit between your friends?” Jongdae was smiling.

“Yes, of course,” Minseok yawned. “You’re a simple man.”

.

The scariest part of going back “home” wasn’t facing his famous life again, but the fact that Jongdae was technically homeless. The only relatives that lived in town were a distant cousin and his newlywed brother and he didn’t want to bother them. He could, of course, go back to the dorm, but that would be a nightmare. He didn’t even have time to search for an apartment since he was returning because of tight schedules – in the end, he had to stay with his manager.

The rest was quite easy. He had to film for a show, attend a meeting, beautician visit, go to the gym, supervisor meeting, eat out and finally sleep.

“I’m renting a room,” Jongdae warned. “No more couches. My back doesn’t deserve that.”

“I can find a place for you,” his manager insisted.

“No,” Jongdae said. “Not yet.”

Having a new place meant having to take the rest of his things from Baekhyun’s house and Jongdae needed a bit of time to deal with this mess. Besides, he didn’t want everyone to know.

“Hello,” Seungwan found him in the cafeteria. “Heard you got to travel.”

“Yes,” Jongdae smiled, offering her a seat. “Minseok sent you a kiss.”

“Oh, I follow him on Instagram,” she said. “Crazy how some of us have one…”

“Shut up,” he laughed. “I don’t know how to use these things. But I can send you a picture, that I know how to do.”

They kept talking and Jongdae expected her to talk about Baekhyun, but she didn’t.

“So, Japan busking?”

“Yes,” Jongdae nodded. “I’ll stay with Kyungsoo. I’m actually excited about this…”

“How about the festival in Thailand this month?” She pretended to be angry. “We’re all in this together!”

Jongdae knew she was kidding, but he was surprised. He agreed with that festival months ago and he simply forgot about it, just one night lost in a sea of filming and recording – that massive, dumb show with every idol and singer, and Jongdae would probably get to sing two songs if much.

“I really forgot,” he mumbled.

“I thought it would be exciting for you to see the boys as a group,” Seungwan looked at him differently, catching things in the air. “I mean, Mark can’t simply shut up about their first live performance here.”

Jongdae was now speechless. He didn’t even know Mark was in the group; he didn’t know who was working with Baekhyun anymore—

Baekhyun and him would be there, together.

“Yes,” Jongdae gulped and smiled after, quickly covering his reaction. “I can’t wait.”

Seungwan wasn’t impressed.

“Is there something happening?” She whispered.

“So many things,” Jongdae kept smiling. “I wouldn’t even know how to start.”

Her eyes were sad and, as soon as he noticed, he realized that it was obvious. It took him a long time to realize, but the last days sleeping in someone’s house or couch didn’t feel different, despite being physically uncomfortable; he was living like a foreigner for a while.

“I saw Jongin comforting him earlier,” she said casually, her finger circling the bowl. “I don’t know why… but I knew it was about you.”

Jongdae felt bad; he didn’t even cry or suffer. He knew that he suffered in a different way, of course. He wasn’t someone who would cry about it, nor feel everything at once like Baekhyun did. Jongdae looked around in the cafeteria, even if he knew that Baekhyun wasn’t there.

“When we met,” he told her casually, ranting without thinking. “We praised and cheered for each other. And I thought this is good because there’s no competition between us. He has always have been competitive with other people but never with me… I used to think that between two men only competition could destroy their friendship, you know?”

“This is not true,” she said.

“I know, but that’s what I was afraid of,” Jongdae said and noticed that this only reflected his own nature. “I was afraid of violence, aggression… fights. Those things…”

“I never had a relationship,” Seungwan said quickly, mostly to bring Jongdae back to reality. “So I don’t have good advice. Yet I can say things that no one else can say, right?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Most people I know loved each other but let the life led them apart,” she looked down, frowning. “I guess that’s why some people marry soon, to make sure life won’t tear them apart. But if you ask me, I think this is no good. Because when we marry early, we have to grow together and people grow differently, right? We have different timings. I used to be best friends with someone but then I changed and now I have other friends. That’s what happens and it’s not my fault, so if I don’t accept that, I’ll suffer. It’s hard for me to let people go, to be honest, but they never truly leave me, they just… change and come back once in a while.”

Jongdae waited until he was sure that she was over.

“And what’s the advice?”

Seungwan bit her lip, unsure. He knew she was choosing the best words, a soft punch.

“You’re a nice person. I never saw anyone saying bad things about you… and I know because I’m like that too… that they like you because you do what they want,” she moved her hand carefully to touch his. “It’s okay if you break his heart and not the opposite.”

He blinked, confused.

“I love him,” he said in a heartbeat. “I really love him.”

“I know and he probably knows it too,” she sighed. “I’m not talking about that.”

Someone passed by and Seungwan retreated her hand; she stood up and waved to her mates as if she didn’t just drop a bomb on Jongdae’s lap. He was there for a long time, trying to decipher her words.

Incapable of solving the puzzle, he called the manager and asked him to pick the rest of his things on Baekhyun’s house. Jongdae went back to the dressing room and he didn’t know where he was going to sleep that night, but it would under his own roof. 

“Are you okay, dear?” The makeup lady asked nicely. She was a foreigner and Jongdae suspected that he was one of her scarce friends in the company.

“Not right now,” he smiled. “But I’ll be, I promise.”

He endured the full two hours of getting ready; time to be Chen. At least this time they allowed him to choose the location and the concept. He got in the car and they even gave him a security team this time. He sat on the back seat and took a deep breath.

“Did you check the dates for the radio show?” His manager asked, sitting next to him. “Would you be okay with a Dazed interview?”

“Yes and yes,” Jongdae said. “Did you pick my things?”

“I’ll do it at night,” he said. “Where would I put them now, anyway?”

“Great, that’s a wonderful question because I need a place till my sleep time, if I got any, of course,” Jongdae said. “An apartment.”

Even the driver was silent after that. The car was moving, but his manager’s face wasn’t.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, finally, soon changing the subject to Jongdae’s obligations. That made Jongdae feel better since he didn’t want to think about his life anymore. It was cold that day and they were all using thick coats. They got him a handful of dancers, all women and a kind pianist that made him freeze. Poor pianos, they didn’t deserve to be my bad memories, Jongdae thought.

“I guess we can do it in less than a day,” the director was talking to a group of people while Jongdae was taking pictures with the staff. “Like always.”

Being in front of a camera was natural after all those years and Jongdae didn’t have any demands (unless that he should always sing instead of lip-synching). Baekhyun told him once that he had no future as a Drag Queen.

He just wanted it to be over and maybe chat with the dancers before leaving. They were nice and kind, always. He was surprised to see the producing team with the sound technicians in the location; normally, they didn’t leave their studios. It was easy to spot Sehun, towering over the group, yet hidden under a cap and a casual black outfit. Jongdae didn’t move, watching him nodding and agreeing in silence, looking at the team—should he say anything? They parted ways aridly, not much space left for discussing anything.

Sehun was the one to wave first.

Jongdae approached the team and tried his best to give anyone the same treatment, just before touching Sehun’s elbow.

“Can we chat a little?” He suggested.

Sehun nodded, following him. Jongdae started with small talk, allowing Sehun to shortly describe his last weeks.

“You weren’t around,” Sehun noticed.

“I was visiting a friend,” Jongdae said, walking side by side. “I promised him a long time ago that I would do it, but never had the time. But since I’m moving out—”

“Moving out?” Sehun asked – there was a hint of worry in his voice.

“Yes,” Jongdae smiled, just to calm him down. “I’m getting my own apartment.”

Sehun nodded in silence, frowning. Jongdae could smell his worry and nervousness, and, at the same time, he knew that Sehun was too shy to speak.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Jongdae said casually. “But we’re not living together anymore.”

“I understand,” he said with a tiny voice.

It was sandy, a bit dry around them. Jongdae stopped and turned to him, mostly to escape the wind.

“Yet I apologize,” Sehun said. “I didn’t think about what I was doing that day and I didn’t even ask if you allowed me to…”

He was looking down, too shy.

“Ah, cute,” Jongdae snorted. “That’s okay, Sehun. I wasn’t offended.”

“Are you going home, right now?” Sehun asked and his ears were still bright red. “You must be busy.”

“I don’t have a home ‘right now’,” Jongdae said simply. “But I’m leaving soon. I have a long day tomorrow.”

“You don’t own a place yet,” he mumbled. “So how are you moving out?”

“I’m moving out, not moving in,” Jongdae laughed alone, hugging himself against the wind. “It’s not funny, I guess.”

“You can spend the night with me,” Sehun said quickly and suddenly added a few words. “At my apartment, that’s what I meant.”

“That’s nice, but,” Jongdae said without thinking and realized that he didn’t have anything else to say. No argument and yet, just a simple ‘I don’t want to’ wouldn’t be the truth. He was denying because he thought it was the right thing to say but, in that situation, it made no sense – the right thing… based on what?

Finally, he understood what Seungwan said.

“But,” Sehun repeated cautiously.

“But nothing,” Jongdae shrugged. “Is it a couch?”

“No, of course not,” Sehun smiled. “I have a guest room so my friends can crash in.”

“So, am I your friend?” Jongdae teased.

“I wish you were,” Sehun said quietly. “But I think I messed it up.”

“You didn’t,” Jongdae said, suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t worry about it, really. You should worry about nothing, actually, just keep your heart in ease…”

Sehun’s place was just like him – neat, pretty and classic. He must have spent a lot of money to get a spacious apartment near the center of the town. Jongdae took his shoes and sat on the couch, already used to the feeling of not being home. Sehun was worriedly turning the lights on, hiding dirty clothes and random objects.

“I’m messy,” he said, blushing. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Jongdae snorted. “I understand… since you live alone.”

Jongdae couldn’t help but think about his new apartment, about how he would make it cozy and simple; for a moment, he lost himself on thoughts about the colors, materials, and decorations. He stared at the painting on the wall, the abstract circles in dark colors, simple and impressive and thought about the fact he could appreciate that and yet never buy such a thing.

“Here,” Sehun was standing next to him like a statue, holding towels and a bunch of things on them. “You can use this bathroom…”

“Oh, thank,” Jongdae wasn’t expecting that. “You didn’t have to. That’s… well, you’re…”

It was a brand-new set of body products in small packages.

“My friends crash here a lot,” Sehun said. “Some of my neighbors think I’m married to a few of them.”

Jongdae looked up, a bit confused.

“Then, why don’t you live with someone…”

“I like to be alone but sometimes I hate to be alone. It’s confusing… I don’t like to sleep alone, but I like to have my privacy…”

“That’s not confusing,” Jongdae smiled. “That’s normal. I completely understand you.”

Sehun smiled shyly and Jongdae stood up to avoid wasting his time. He was almost closing the bathroom door when Sehun spoke again.

“You can sleep with me if you want.”

Jongdae stepped out of the bathroom to look at him.

“Sleep, you say?” He asked seriously and undressed from any doubt, as he used to be on stage.

“Anything, actually,” Sehun bit his lip, nervous. “Anything is fine.”

Sehun let his windows open when it was too cold and rainy for that. Jongdae liked it – it was the type of careless act that normal people had when they didn’t have to worry about being watched and followed. Jongdae moved in bed away from his long arms, not because he was rejecting the hold, but because he wanted to look outside. It was yet early but he knew that he had a short time before his manager call. He tip-toed to the window, held the open curtains and tied them.

If he was in a movie, as fictional as he felt through the night, he would turn off his phone and go back to bed, enjoy just a bit more of sex, this time even louder, just to annoy the people who were leaving to work. But he wouldn’t, because, in the end, he’s still the same person, no matter how extracorporeal that felt, how foreigner was the touch and the feeling that remained in his skin. He took another bath and dressed up, fresh and new; he wanted to say goodbye to Sehun, sweet Sehun, still sleeping and barely wrapped in blankets, yet it would be a crime.

He left silently, closing the door slowly.

His phone rang just two minutes after when he was taking the stairs.

“I’ve got a place,” his manager said. “Where are you?”

“Do they know I scream?” Jongdae mocked, but it was real. “A lot.”

“They’re aware you’re a singer,” he snorted. “You’re not the only one in the building. We have less than an hour to check it.”

It was raining non-stop in Japan and that made the place even prettier, in Jongdae’s opinion. It was like a grey painting, an odd harmony between people and their umbrellas. Because it was an official schedule, he had a security team and a nice car – this time. Yet, when he was looking at the city from inside of the car, all he wanted to do was to getaway.

“Your things will be on the apartment tomorrow,” his manager said. “Would you like if I sent a team to get everything in order?”

“Oh, no,” the singer laughed, touching the foggy window. “I want to do it by myself. At least… the things I can do, of course. If they want to clean the toilet, then I’ll be grateful.”

“I don’t think it’s the best time for you to worry about that,” he retorted. “It’s a busy month.”

“And I never felt more relaxed in my life,” Jongdae said. “You shouldn’t worry about that.”

Kyungsoo was waiting at the sidewalk, holding two umbrellas. He waited patiently while Jongdae picked his bags and followed every instruction to be left in peace.

“Here,” Kyungsoo offered him the yellow umbrella.

“Nice to see you again,” Jongdae ignored the umbrella and held him tight under Kyungsoo’s one. “You look chubbier.”

“I’ve been eating well,” he said simply and offered the umbrella again. “My boyfriend is sick. He’s upstairs and he won’t bother us, but I’ve been taking care of him and I don’t want you to get sick too, so you better stay safe. Put your mask on and don’t hug me.”

“Fine,” Jongdae sighed. “Good luck trying to avoid physical contact. I’m an octopus.”

“I know,” Kyungsoo smiled.

There was a soft song playing somewhere in the house. The place wasn’t fancy but Jongdae wasn’t going to be fooled, he knew very well that was expensive to live there. Kyungsoo really moved out so easily when everything was a lot harder than back home.

“I’m hearing… barking…?” Jongdae asked, taking off his wet coat and shoes.

“The dogs are upstairs,” Kyungsoo said and he came back with a towel. “I made tea for you. I also cleaned everything, so you don’t have to worry.”

“You’re the one worrying,” Jongdae laughed, staring at the musical instruments and posters on the wall. “Your house looks like a fancy cool restaurant inside. It’s… surprising.”

“Chanyeol has a degree on that, how to decorate places, he’s very good at it…” Kyungsoo said, unbothered, but Jongdae knew he was a bit proud. “But he spent too much money. He’s not good at saving.”

“He’s right,” Jongdae shrugged, thinking about how nice the place was. Kyungsoo took his bag and then served him hot coffee and delicious mochi. He tried to explain what happened in a succinct, simple way, mostly because he was sure that Kyungsoo would hear about it from other people and he didn’t want to sound like he wanted his friends to take a side.

“It took too long,” Kyungsoo said easily, wiping his pink lips. “Didn’t you see that coming?”

“No,” Jongdae said sincerely. “Of course not.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Sometimes… it’s hard to see something when we’re immersed in the problem.”

As always, Kyungsoo changed the subject. He didn’t like to discuss intimacies for too long; not that Jongdae wished to keep talking about the same thing over and over again. After an hour or so, someone started screaming Kyungsoo’s name upstairs.

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo apologized. “He’s very dramatic and if I ignore him, he won’t stop.”

“Ah, that’s fine. Isn’t he sick?”

“He’s sick, not dying. He can use his legs,” Kyungsoo stood up, sighing. “He must be hungry. Excuse me for a few minutes…”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Jongdae assured.

It was a bittersweet feeling to see how his friend was taking care of his lover. He watched Kyungsoo carrying the bowl in one hand and grabbing a funny looking bear in the other. Jongdae could picture how nicely Kyungsoo would feed his boyfriend, tucking the toy next to him in bed; it was this softness that was implicit in any of Kyungsoo’s gestures but rarely surfaced. It was nice, he thought, to be taken care, to have someone to care about.

Jongdae tried hard to think only about the future, but he kept thinking about Baekhyun. Not whatever he would probably be doing, but the time they lived together. Tons of pictures that he wanted to send were kept on the phone. He still wanted to share his life with Baekhyun and he didn’t know if that made him an asshole or not.

Kyungsoo came back and they talked about restaurants and food. It was a nice distraction.

Before busking, he begged his team to allow him to eat out on his own. His manager agreed – and he had a nice hour sitting alone in a place full of people. When he was about to leave, the chef asked for a selfie.

“Fan since 2012,” the man confessed, his poor language skills being good enough to Jongdae. “Your album. All of them!”

“I’m grateful,” he translated perfectly. “Your food is delicious.”

The man beamed and took a picture with a Polaroid. Jongdae was tempted to buy the camera right there but he lost track of his mind when he saw the wall covered in photos. His eyes found Baekhyun so quickly that he didn’t even see his own picture there. He touched it; it wasn’t just Baekhyun, it was his new group – Jongdae knew each one of them by name and face, even if they weren’t close friends.

The picture was in the back of his mind while he was singing.

He wasn’t sad, not at all. Many fans came to listen to him and passersby stopped too, which was even more rewarding. There was a team recording and some of his musician friends were playing. Jongdae wasn’t sad but it felt real, for the first time, slapping him in his face, that Baekhyun was building a new life that he wouldn’t have access to. Jongdae felt an empty space in his chest, thinking about his friends and their lovers, the future without his best friend and his partner.

He didn’t miss a note.

“You did well today,” his manager assured. “I don’t think that I ever heard you singing like that… and that’s a compliment, I swear!”

“I know,” Jongdae smiled enthusiastically. He wasn’t paying attention to his techniques, he was feeling the lyrics, expressing pain, angst, doubt. They left the country on the same night; Kyungsoo went to the airport to give Jongdae a hug.

“Are you coming back home someday?” Jongdae mocked, holding his bag.

“Yes, of course,” Kyungsoo nodded. “I promised to pay you a visit and I keep my word. You better have a decent place for me to stay.”

“Ah, I’m going to do that now, don’t worry,” Jongdae snorted. “Give me your boyfriend’s number, I’ll definitely need a few tips. I don’t even know how to start.”

“That’s easy,” Kyungsoo said. “You do whatever you want to.”

He had to dress up to go to the airport because of fucking course the place would be surrounded by journalists. The tension was palpable around him and he stood by the Red Velvet girls, just to be sure that no one would try to mess with them, as normally the fansites did with girl groups.

“You could sit next to me,” Seulgi said. “I have to sit alone at most times.”

Jongdae smiled under his mask, somewhat grateful. Being a soloist was a lonely experience. They always traveled in groups, screaming and laughing about funny jokes and he was generally alone or, well, talking to his manager.

“Then I’ll meet you there,” he put a space between them, just in case. They never knew what people could say. He was hushed to get in and it was just like another day again – grabbing a few fan letters and gifts, being inspected, taking off his mask for a minute. He lost sight of his friends while he was on the line and when he entered the plane, he almost bumped on Mark, one of the new kids (not so new, but Jongdae couldn’t help but think that the youngest idols had just arrived).

He apologized profusely.

“Relax,” Jongdae snorted. “I’m fine. I’ll survive.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I can help you with your bag!”

“Do I look that old?” Jongdae couldn’t believe, yet he was amused. “I can carry my own bag.”

“Sorry,” Mark looked like he wanted to cry. “I didn’t mean—”

“I’m just kidding,” Jongdae said softly, holding the boy’s shoulder. “I’m fine. Go back to your seat, where is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Baekhyun will decide it,” he looked back, searching for something. Jongdae raised his eyebrows for a second, trying to connect the dots, but then Seulgi passed by him, touching his arm. Jongdae followed her almost unconsciously, mind wandering way too far. He helped Juhyun to keep the bags safely but he was hyperaware of every person in the plane.

“No, sit you two together,” he finally heard Baekhyun’s voice. “And keep your phone in your pocket, Jongin. Please.”

Jongdae searched for Seulgi as if she could shield him. He realized that he was standing by himself, confused and lost.

“Sit here,” Baekhyun touched his shoulder lightly.

Jongdae would normally just do it and then ask anything but he was so surprised that he had no reaction – he just turned to Baekhyun, speechless.

“It’s better if you sit next to us,” Baekhyun said and his tired face seemed even more tired; his eyes were smaller, almost blinking. “If you don’t mind.”

Jongdae nodded and gave him the bag. Baekhyun sat down on the window seat and grabbed his phone. Jongdae sat next to him in silence and they kept like that for a long time after the takeoff. The boys in front of them were loud and there wasn’t anyone behind their seats.

“Taemin, stop being loud,” Baekhyun complained, standing up with his headphone in his hand. “I can hear you from here.”

It didn’t work.

“He doesn’t listen to me,” Baekhyun grunted, sitting back.

“Why are you acting like a babysitter?” Jongdae smiled. Baekhyun looked at him; he was wearing white and his hair was completely bleached. He looked like a ghost.

“Because I’m their babysitter,” he sighed. “I’m the leader.”

Jongdae couldn’t help but laugh. Baekhyun was still staring at him, eyes searching something on Jongdae’s face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Jongdae said. “I think it’s cute.”

Baekhyun looked down and made a sound, something stuck in his throat. He was annoyed, of course, probably for many reasons. Jongdae couldn’t help but worry and care.

“How are you?”

Baekhyun turned to him slowly again, disbelief tattooed on his face.

“How am I?”

“Yes,” Jongdae gulped, but he didn’t back down. “I want to know if you’re okay.”

“No, I’m not,” Baekhyun frowned. “I’m tired, my hips are hurt and… well, fuck you. You know why.”

Jongdae took a deep breath and leaned his head back on the chair. Well, at least he tried. The silence was palpable for a couple of minutes, until Baekhyun asked, slowly and quieter,

“Where are you staying?”

Jongdae barely moved. “My own apartment. Gangnam area, I’m renting for now.”

“Good for you,” he said bitterly. “You must be happy.”

“I am,” Jongdae spat back, losing his patience for a second. “It took me a while but I am happy. I wish you the same.”

Baekhyun seemed disarmed for a fraction of a second, then his mouth twisted slightly. He looked to the side, annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said quickly, reaching for his hand. “I—”

“Shut up,” Baekhyun grunted. “I don’t want your pity. I’ll move on someday, don’t worry. You know I’m a slow learner, but I get there.”

“I’m not pitying you,” Jongdae whispered, still trying to hold his hand. “I’m apologizing because I was mean and I don’t want to hurt you. God, Baekhyun, I love you, you know that.”

He didn’t answer and his tired eyes were lost, staring at the clouds.

“I miss you,” Jongdae tried.

“I’m too busy to think about that now,” Baekhyun finally said, gulping. “But when I get free time, maybe we can talk.”

“You don’t look that excited to talk to me,” Jongdae pointed. “If you’re not comfortable, then you don’t have to, you know. I understand.”

Baekhyun wheezed, even more annoyed.

“Stop this, please,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s so annoying.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Jongdae fixed his posture.

“I don’t want that,” Baekhyun said a bit loud, then went back to whisper. “I just don’t want you to sound all nice and stuff, you dumbass.”

“I’m nice,” Jongdae protested, almost laughing. “What do you expect me to do?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Baekhyun shook his hand away. “I don’t know what to expect from you. I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

Jongdae licked his lips, frustrated, trying to find something to say. It made him so frustrated, that they were now sitting next to each other and Baekhyun is still unreachable. No long empty walls, no busy schedule, no mean blog posts. The distance was somewhere else.

Jongdae rubbed his face many times.

“Did we break up?” He asked sincerely. “For real?”

“I guess,” Baekhyun said absently, then looked at him seriously. “It’s still hard for me to digest but I guess it’s the best for us. It’ll bother me when I see you with someone else because it won’t feel right. I guess we’ll get used to that too.”

“Fine,” Jongdae nodded weakly. “I understand.”

Jongdae spent the rest of the flight staring at their knees and arms almost touching. Eight years, eight years, he repeated to himself and for the first time, he wanted to cry. He would have to get used to seeing Baekhyun through pictures and videos, someone else’s words. He took a long breath and promised himself he would let it go.

They had to pretend that nothing happened on the way out. Seulgi found him and held his arm.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized sincerely.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled.

Jongdae walked down the stairs at such a fast pace that he only noticed his dirty shirt when he left the building. He asked for a cab and ignored the missed calls.

“In a hurry?” The driver asked.

“Yes,” Jongdae smiled politely. “I need to buy something to finish cooking a recipe.”

“Oh,” the driver said and curiously, the birthday billboard with Jongdae’s face was on their way. “You’re famous, right?”

“Moderately,” Jongdae said and his phone rang in the pocket. It was Kyungsoo. “Sorry I’ll answer a call. Hello?”

“_We’re right in front of your building.”_

“Fuck,” Jongdae screamed. “Sorry, but would it be weird if I asked you to go back to my place?”

“A bit,” the driver laughed. “But I can do it.”

Jongdae relaxed his body and sighed. Maybe he could serve the ice-cream that was left on the fridge. It wouldn’t be fancy, but…

Kyungsoo and his impossibly tall boyfriend were waiting on the lobby, dressed exactly alike in all black. Jongdae apologized a hundred times before guiding them to the elevator.

“I prefer to take the stairs,” Jongdae confessed.

“That’s normal for a famous person,” Kyungsoo’s boyfriend said. “We understand.”

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything. He just kept inspecting the place and, sometimes, Jongdae. At least the main dish was ready and they brought an expensive wine as a gift.

“That’s the last wine bottle I give you,” Kyungsoo warned. “You drink too much by yourself. Are you leaving home and going out already?”

“That’s the first vacations I have in a while,” Jongdae said. “I have the right to stay in.”

“How about the dissertation?” Kyungsoo asked carefully. “You said nothing about it.”

“My final grade wasn’t that great, but yay, they accepted it just fine,” Jongdae fixes the plates on the table. “I guess it was a relief, after all.”

“Are you going to apply for a Ph.D.?” Chanyeol asked curiously, still munching the meatballs.

“Not now,” Jongdae said quickly. “Now, I’m learning how to cook. University is a black hole, if you allow it to suck your life out, then you don’t do anything else.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I left as soon as I graduated,” he laughed. “Kyungsoo dropped out.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Jongdae held the chopsticks high, gaping at his friend.

“I literally left the country,” Kyungsoo shrugged. “I thought it was implied.”

“Asshole,” Jongdae slapped him gently, smiling. “You never tell me stuff!”

“He’s like that,” Chanyeol complained – even with a smile on his face. “You really listened to what I’ve said. Your place looks really nice… Did you paint the walls? I thought you were renting.”

“It’s a removable wallpaper,” Jongdae pointed, proud. “It’s really expensive but it really makes it look like the walls are painted, right?”

“Oh, it really does! I’m used to the cheap ones…” Chanyeol is truly impressed, almost breaking his long neck to look around. “So, did you ‘debut’ the place?”

Jongdae kept chewing and staring, confused.

Kyungsoo grabbed a few caramelized onions, “he wants to know if you had sex here.”

“Oh,” Jongdae snorted. “No, I didn’t.”

“Don’t annoy him with inappropriate questions,” Kyungsoo poked his boyfriend with a chopstick. “Yet, you have been single for a while, Jongdae. Are you seeing anyone?”

“Not really,” Jongdae said. “I’m trying to fix my life first.”

“Good choice,” Kyungsoo didn’t seem to be impressed. “Have you been talking to Baekhyun?”

“Also, no,” he said and his heart was in ease. “I don’t think we have things to talk about and he’s busy, very busy.”

“Not that busy,” Kyungsoo said dryly, “because he finds some time to spend dating.”

Jongdae sighed. He knew Kyungsoo was trying to help, after all.

“I know and I’m glad he’s back to be seen around girls,” he said simply. “I bet he’ll avoid his family’s awkwardness about him dating boys.”

“That’s not my point,” Kyungsoo wasn’t going to give up. “I want you to go out and have fun too. You deserve it as much as him.”

It struck Jongdae to hear those words – he didn’t feel like he deserved it.

“I go out sometimes,” he argued. “I went to a friend’s party two days ago. He had a baby… And there was a donation event… ah, Seungwan asked me to go with her to a birthday party.”

“She’s not asking you out on a date,” Kyungsoo stated the obvious.

“I know, but I’m still going out,” Jongdae pointed. “Stop worrying about me. I’m much better than I was.”

“I know,” Kyungsoo nodded. “I can see that.”

Jongdae normally didn’t have time to buy gifts and it was the first time he ever bought Sooyoung one. He couldn’t help but overthink.

“Calm down,” Seungwan asked, pressing the elevator button. “I’m sure she’ll love an expensive necklace. She likes expensive things.”

“But what if she thinks it’s ugly?” He frowned. “I know her for such a long time and I never had time to ask.”

“Yeri is giving her a hug as a gift, whatever you have in that box will be better,” Seungwan laughed, grabbing her purse strap. “Calm down, you know. She’ll be happy that you came.”

“Wasn’t her birthday like… a week ago?” He asked curiously.

“Yes, but we only had time now,” the door opened and she took the lead. “Relax…”

The place is just small and fancy. He knows it was probably rented to the party, but lately, he was so immersed in home decoration that he couldn’t help but look at every detail. He met a few friends on their way and talked to them.

“You look good,” Sooyoung said, surprised, hugging him. “Thanks for coming!”

She really liked the necklace and he was relieved. Yet, pretty much like it was back at the building, he was alone. Everyone had a group of friends and they were all nice to Jongdae, but he didn’t belong with them, so he just sat down with a drink and enjoyed the music and the lights coming from a globe. Jongdae felt exhausted and he put the empty cup on the floor and laid back on the couch, staring at the globe.

He enjoyed a calm ballad while it lasted, then he opened his eyes, convinced that he should’ve drunk more. His eyes stopped on the group on the other side of the room, near the window. Baekhyun was standing in the middle, looking at him through the space between two people.

Jongdae smiled, a bit surprised. Baekhyun was drinking from a red cup, using a shirt with glitter that was reflecting the lights. His hair was dyed pink, falling on his eyes; he just stared without blinking, as if Jongdae hadn’t seen him.

Jongdae stood up to grab a beer and felt a bit hazy. He was used to wine and someone gave him a drink with vodka, his body knew the difference very well.

“Are you okay,” someone asked and he smiled and nodded. On his way to the kitchen, he noticed Sooyoung and instead of following his way, he went to her and apologized – he needed to go home.

He opened the door and escaped, walking fast. In the elevator, he felt defeated, like he just missed the whole thing. He didn’t feel like that around his university friends, not even when he was the only unmarried one; it was about time for him to leave the company, he didn’t feel included anymore, even if he liked the people there.

He was still thinking about that when he got out of the cab but he didn’t have time to walk inside before someone honked. He turned back and saw a car.

“Is that…?” He read the number plate. It was Baekhyun’s car. He ran to the car and leaned down.

“You still don’t drive at night,” Baekhyun said as soon as Jongdae looked at him. “I swear.”

“What are you doing here?” Jongdae asked. “Did you follow me?”

“Yes, and you should be way more careful,” he unlocked the door. “Come in.”

Jongdae stared in silence for a moment and then agreed. Baekhyun waited until he fastened the seat belt and then started driving fast, as he liked to.

“Where are we going?” Jongdae asked, confused.

“I don’t know yet,” Baekhyun said.

“Then why am I here?” he almost snorted. Baekhyun kept driving, windows down, fast and clear. He loved that, Jongdae knew, just drive and feel free. His entire life, body, and words were controlled, so driving was the way out. The silence, this time, wasn’t uncomfortable either. Jongdae let the wind play with his hair and relaxed on the seat; he wasn’t in a hurry.

Baekhyun turned the radio on and drove for half an hour, humming quietly. He stopped the car in a complex not very far from Jongdae’s place.

“Do you live here now?”

“Yes,” he said, parking neatly.

It was sophisticated and clean. Jongdae got out of the car, noticing the other sports cars around, thinking about who owned them. Baekhyun closed the door loudly and walked to him.

“What am I—”

Baekhyun held him against the car in a fast move, grabbing Jongdae’s shoulders and pressing their bodies together. He kissed Jongdae and it was an old habit, so Jongdae kissed him back as an involuntary response. It was slightly aggressive, the way Baekhyun’s hands fell from his shoulders to his ass in a second, but Jongdae was used to it and quite hungry for this type of touch. It made him fast, like an electric wave, rubbing open lips and crotches desperately. The smell, the pace, the small grunts, coming back like the first favorite song back on the radio for a throwback. When Jongdae had time to think – Baekhyun kissed his neck, his favorite mating call step – he thought that it felt like being sober and drinking again, this particular feeling of losing control and enjoying way too much.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Baekhyun whispered in his ear. Jongdae looked at him, confused and horny, about to laugh; did he ever have any other choice?

“Okay.”

.

Someone complained about the noise, which, Jongdae thought, was understandable. Baekhyun got out of the bed to answer the phone and Jongdae was alone on his bed, in that white room that seemed to be his new favorite color. He was seeing himself reflected on the giant black screen of the television right in front of him: naked, hard, a whole mess of wet body between the sheets. It was better to stare at the thousand stuffed animals and fan gifts.

“The old lady upstairs was worried about me,” Baekhyun said, opening the door. His hair was completely wet, his skin was glowing and he was as hard as before he left the room – he was, indeed, completely unaffected.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae sighed, breathing fast. He was tired and infinitely horny. “What did you say?”

“That I’m quite well,” Baekhyun climbed on the bed, kneeling on the mattress. “Turn back.” 

Jongdae turned back, moving his legs to untangle himself off the sheets. He gasped loudly when he felt the – now – cold hands on his ass, spreading him.

“I did nothing yet,” Baekhyun laughed and when he stopped, Jongdae felt the movement of his tongue in a straight line to his ass and this time, he made sure he wasn’t going to be loud. It felt good and he closed his eyes, moving his lips unconsciously against the mattress. He opened again when Baekhyun tapped his thighs; he knew the code and he reached for the condoms next to the pillows. He had to move his arm back and shake it until Baekhyun took them.

That was the worst part, when they had a minute where both could overthink about what they were doing. Jongdae didn’t want to ruin anything and yet, it had been hours of boning and no explanation. Jongdae thought about how could he ask something without turning that encounter into a nightmare.

“Baekhyun,” he said, facing the window, face on the mattress. “What is going on?”

The condom empty package made a weird noise when it hit the ground, spilling a few drops of lube.

“Safe sex,” was the answer.

Jongdae hated himself for giggling.

“I’m serious,” he tried again. “What do you want?”

Baekhyun opened his legs carefully like he didn’t hear and Jongdae had to grab the sheets when he slid in, hard and deep, with no hesitation.

“Holy shit,” Jongdae screamed; old habits die hard.

Baekhyun put an arm around him and pulled him back, just a little. “You have to scream harder,” he whispered on Jongdae’s neck. “I want everyone to listen, this time.”

Jongdae tried to keep his eyes open but he was too into it, mouth open, back arching. It was good, good, and he was so completely gone that he didn’t even notice that he was, in fact, being even louder. Baekhyun was talking nonsense because he never shut up during sex unless there was a dick inside his mouth.

“You really get hotter and hotter and this is not fair,” he was babbling. “Hard to think about anything else when you walking around with that ass— you wanna know what I want, I want you, fuck, I want this type of screaming mess, I want you.”

Jongdae tried to say anything but it sounded like an incoherent moan; he was about to come, sneaking his hand under his body to jerk that orgasm out, to calm himself down. Baekhyun bit him on the shoulder just before coming and Jongdae made a mess on the sheets right after. Baekhyun rested his body over him but not for too long, sliding off messily after.

“The condom broke,” he said.

Jongdae gulped and licked his lips, enjoying the good feeling.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not for me,” Baekhyun said, getting out of the bed. Jongdae turned over, raising his hips to wipe his ass.

Baekhyun opened the door and grabbed his underwear on the floor. It’s over, Jongdae realized.

“Am I supposed to leave now?”

Baekhyun turned to him while dressing.

“If you want to… I can order a pizza. There’s beer in the fridge.”

Jongdae stared at him in silence, tired of that game. Baekhyun pushed his wet hair back.

“I don’t know, Jongdae,” he shrugged. “Do whatever you want. I don’t want to tell you to do something… then find out that you didn’t want it.”

Jongdae sat up, serious.

“If you’re still mad at me, then what are we doing right now?”

“I’m not mad at you at all,” he smiled. “I’m just saying the truth.”

Jongdae felt hopeless.

“Do you want to leave?” Baekhyun asked, sounding sincere.

“Not now,” Jongdae answered.

“Then stay,” he shrugged again.

“Do you want me to be here?” Jongdae asked this time.

“I’ve never stopped wanting you in my bed,” Baekhyun frowned. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking about you.”

Jongdae gulped; it hit him like a brick. He spent all this time going far away, building his own independence, meeting new people and places and, in the blink of an eye, he was right back to the start. His feet walked the way back for him.

Baekhyun left the room casually and he was alone, for a minute. Then Baekhyun was back, holding a sketchbook and a pen.

“The delivery number is on the fridge door, the phone is hanging on the kitchen wall,” he said, sitting on the tiny table. “Ask for a pepperoni for me, anything for you, the money is on the table. You can take a bath, you know we’re the same size and I don’t care if you use my stuff.”

“Okay,” Jongdae left the bed, somewhat happy for having something to do. “What are you going to do?”

“Write a song,” Baekhyun said, staring at the blank paper.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, welcome to my new fave fic of all time. I'm editing my old fics and finishing a few because I have spare time now but 2020 will be a busy, busy year and I'm not sure if I'll get time to write. This fic was living inside my mind and drafts for a long time and I'm so happy that you all liked because I didn't think it would interest someone. Thank you for your support!!!

**Author's Note:**

> this song reminds me of them and I guess I just wrote this because I wanted to read this angst deep relationship thing with them and I've never got to read before... this was first written months ago, but well, it needs a chance to see the light.


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